


Ghosts of Our Sins

by glitterpop



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Body Horror, Disturbing Themes, Gen, Heavy Angst, I'm so sorry, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Psychological Horror, evil!tadashi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 16:14:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2699276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glitterpop/pseuds/glitterpop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was just a dream, of course. There was no way something like that would be real. He figured it had come from his guilt, the depression and anger he still felt towards himself for not saving his big brother. If only he had stalled him. If only he had run after his brother quicker. Maybe he could have saved Tadashi if he had done so.</p><p>Maybe the explosion would have just killed them both, and maybe it should have disturbed him more to be so calm thinking that, but what did it matter? What did it matter anymore?</p><p>Just a dream. Just his fault that he had the dream in the first place. He still checked under the bed before he laid back down though, heart skipping a beat in his chest.</p><p>Of course there was nothing under there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts of Our Sins

**Author's Note:**

> First of all let me say this:
> 
> IF I NEED TO ADD ANY TAGS TO THIS STORY, PLEASE FEEL FREE TO LET ME KNOW. I ADDED THE TAGS THAT I THOUGHT FIT, BUT IF I NEED ANY MORE DO NOT HESITATE TO LET ME KNOW
> 
> Okay.
> 
> So, I needed to write this because it wouldn't leave me alone. And it took a turn I wasn't expecting. This is a DARK FIC. I want to say that now. It's not rated M for any smut or cursing. It's rated M because it has DARK THEMES in it.
> 
> I hope you guys like this, regardless. I spent some time on it, and regardless of whether it's super creepy or not, I am actually very proud of it. So enjoy.

It started with a nightmare.

Hiro dreamed he woke up in the middle of the night. It was dark in his room, his eyes barely managing to make out the shapes of his furniture. He could hear Mochi moving around under his bed. Sighing, he turned over onto his stomach and rubbed his face against his pillow, wanting to fall back asleep but feeling too awake to do so. There was something that had woken him, he knew that. He just couldn’t figure out what.

Something pushed softly against his thigh. He propped himself up, twisting around to see what it was. Mochi, laying on his side, idly stretching his body out in his sleep. His front paws pushed steadily into the meat of his thigh before the cat curled back into his small ball, letting out soft sleeping cat sounds. He blinked slowly, his mind trying to register something but coming up blank.

Mochi was on the bed sleeping, but Mochi was also making noises under his bed.

He froze at the thought, staying still before twisting himself into a sitting position, his heart hammering in his chest. Now that he was fully awake, paying attention, he could hear it better. Soft thumping sounds, moving this way and that under his bed. There were also scratching noises against the bottom. He could vaguely feel the pressure of whatever was causing the noise; it was something big.

He tried to think, curling up small, he tried to think, he tried to blink, he tried to _breathe._ There was something under his bed though, and it was bigger than his cat. He looked at the other side of his room, feeling muffled and panicked, but it was empty. No Tadashi

[brother please where please scared i’m scared supposed to chase away the monsters brother brother did the fire have to eat you]

to wake up and protect him. No Tadashi to make this go away and hold him close afterwards, assuring him that it was okay, everything would be okay.

Baymax though, wasn’t Baymax there?

“Ow,” he whispered, too scared to speak any louder.

Nothing happened.

“Ow,” he said again, as loud as he dared. Still nothing though. No Baymax inflating to figure out what was happening. Why wasn’t Baymax activating? Why was Mochi still just sleeping? _What was moving under his bed?_ He choked back a scream. He didn’t want to know. What else could he do though? He couldn’t go back to sleep, not like this.

Gathering every bit of courage he could muster, he leaned slowly over the side of his bed. Shaky hands, shaky mind, but there was nothing he could see. Not from this angle. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t, but he still had to know. Hanging himself further off the bed, he lowered his body until he could peek underneath it.

It was a nightmare. It was a monster.

It was Tadashi.

And he could see _everything._

Tadashi was wearing the clothes he had worn the day he died, but they were just rags now, hanging almost completely off his body. His skin was black and red and raw, webbings of open wounds still singed; he could almost smell the scent of burning flesh. His right arm was hanging awkwardly, partially torn off, the white of bone and the pink of muscle that had burned as well showing through the mess of skin surrounding it. Most of his hair had been burned off, random patches close to the skull all that was left. His right eye was completely white, heat blinded, the left eye red and rolling wildly until it settled on his face.

His teeth were stark and straight and oddly perfect as his face stretched and cracked into a wide grin.

“ _Hiro,_ ” Tadashi said, and even his voice sounded wrong. Like he had screamed during the explosion he had died in and the flames had burned the inside of his throat.

“ _Hiro,_ ” he said again, shooting an arm out to grab at Hiro’s face. The grip was unnaturally tight; he could feel the sharp bite of nails dig into his cheeks.

“ _Hiro,_ ” Tadashi said one last time before yanking him under the bed. He thought he could hear Tadashi laughing as he screamed and screamed and screamed.

-

Aunt Cass woke him when his screams wouldn’t.

“Honey, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“Tadashi!” he shrieked, casting his eyes around wildly. His aunt had turned the light on when she had rushed in, casting the room in a warm light. Nothing was out of place. Mochi was on his bed, casting an unconcerned eye on the panicked young boy. He shot his eyes over to Tadashi’s side of the room, but there was nothing there either. It rested just the same as it always had, Tadashi’s hat in the middle of his bed. The only thing that managed to be saved.

“Oh, Hiro,” Cass said softly, bringing him close. “I know it’s been hard without him. It’ll be okay.”

 _That’s not why I was screaming,_ he thought. He didn’t say so though, just cuddled closer to his aunt and took deep, gulping breaths, trying to calm his heart down.

She left after a few minutes, after he had allowed her to fuss over him a bit more, tucking him in securely under the blanket. She smiled at him before she turned off the light and left, and the smile was sad and tired. The loss of his brother was hitting her just as hard as it was him, but he wasn’t sure how to get past his grief and comfort her.

He sat back up after the door had closed.

It was just a dream, of course. There was no way something like that would be real. He figured it had come from his guilt, the depression and anger he still felt towards himself for not saving his big brother. If only he had stalled him. If only he had run after his brother quicker. Maybe he could have saved Tadashi if he had done so.

Maybe the explosion would have just killed them both, and maybe it should have disturbed him more to be so calm thinking that, but what did it matter? What did it matter anymore?

Just a dream. Just his fault that he had the dream in the first place. He still checked under the bed before he laid back down though, heart skipping a beat in his chest.

Of course there was nothing under there.

-

He hadn’t managed to get any more real sleep that night, or even any rest. Just fitful dozing that he constantly woke himself from, the image of Tadashi’s smile

[his gums were bleeding cracked and dry and bleeding red teeth red cracked and stretched why whywhy]

dancing behind his eyelids when he kept them closed for too long.

He pulled himself out of bed when he started to feel his body begin to ache. He thought about going to the computer, seeing if any bot fights were happening. Not that he’d been going to any recently. Not that he thought he’d pull himself together enough to go to one again anytime soon. Moving the mouse to activate the screen though just brought up the ‘new message’ icon in the corner. Fred and Honey Lemon and Wasabi and Gogo, he knew. Their names blurred into one in his sleep addled mind. His brother’s friends trying to make him smile, pull him out of the house.

What used to be his friends trying to pull him out of the pit he found himself in.

It brought too much grief though. They hadn’t been his friends, not really. He’d been the baby, the little brother of Tadashi to them. Maybe all they wanted was a small reminder of their dead friend. Maybe they were just doing what they felt they had to do to honour Tadashi. It didn’t matter; he had no intention of leaving the house. Not for school or bot fights or even sunshine. Why should he? Why did he deserve any of it? Tadashi had deserved the world, but instead the world had lost him. He shouldn’t get anything his brother didn’t get.

He walked away from the computer without opening the message.

He wanted to sleep. He wanted to curl up in his bed and sleep for the rest of his life. He never wanted to face the world, because he didn’t think he had the strength to do it anymore. He didn’t have it in him to smile like he used to, or invent, or eat or pretend to be anything other than crushed. He was so tired, tired from last night, tired since the explosion that had taken away the most important part of his life.

Except if he slept he might have that dream again, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing Tadashi look that hurt and crazed and _not himself._ Tadashi had hurt him in the dream, he had looked like the scary things that he used to believe really lived under his bed. He’d had Tadashi look under there every night for monsters when they’d first started living here, and now his brain had made that monster his own brother.

He stumbled to the bathroom, half asleep and consumed by a gnawing emptiness. He hoped a hot shower would make the dream go away. Casting a quick glance in the mirror when he walked in, out of habit more than anything, he didn’t see his own reflection.

He saw the burned, grinning face of his brother peering out at him.

Too shocked to scream, he instead stumbled backwards, pressing his back against the wall. Struggling for breath, unable to tear his eyes away from the image in the mirror, he found his mind racing for answers. This had to be another dream. He must have actually fallen asleep and just… dreamed that he hadn’t. There was no way this was really happening.

Tadashi’s grin only seemed to widen when he saw Hiro’s reaction. He pressed his face against the mirror, opening his mouth wide, exposing his teeth and a blistered tongue. He pressed his hands so hard against whatever surface he must have been against that Hiro could swear to see small beads of blood forming around the open burn wounds on his palms and the tips of his fingers.

“ _I promised you,_ ” Tadashi rasped out with his damaged voice. Hiro took a shuddering breath and why couldn’t he look away from this? “ _I promised I’d always be here for you._ ”

 _Not like this, not like this,_ he thought wildly, on the verge of tears now.

“ _I’ll never leave,_ ” Tadashi promised, pulling away from the mirror. His face was contorted, his smile too wide to be natural. His good eye, his left eye, stayed locked on his paralyzed little brother, before he let out a sound that Hiro thought could maybe be laughter. Maybe it could be laughter, but it was too high. It was too high and jarring and _awful_ to be laughter. Or if it was, it was the kind of laughter that followed you for every waking moment of your life.

Then suddenly the image of Tadashi was gone.

All he could see was his own reflection

[handprints they were there red blood his hands had bled wounds had bled oh brother oh oh]

his skin gone chalky, eyes wide and frightened and dripping tears. He’d unknowingly brought his hands up to fist in his hair, and letting the grip go was harder than he thought. He took a deep breath only to let out a choked cough, and another breath led to a scream he let out through his teeth.

He stood there for another moment before he raced to his room, terrified and very much awake.

He stayed in bed the rest of the day, still never really falling asleep. His Aunt came up once or twice, trying to get him to eat or talk or come out, but he couldn’t even look her in the eye. Could barely move, afraid that any way he turned, he’d only be greeted by the sight of his brother, dead and crazy and around for some reason.

“Just a hallucination,” his voice shook out, hours later when he finally found it. “You didn’t sleep after the nightmare and hallucinated that it was real,” he reasoned, but he still had another crying fit a few minutes later.

He thought about bringing up the message on his computer from his brothers friends, calling one of them for comfort. What would he say though? What would they say? An empty attempt at comfort, certainly. Trying to tell him that his isolation wasn’t helping him cope, that the stress was playing with his mind. Trying to convince him to join them in the real world. He was scared and alone, but he didn’t think he could handle their small smiles.

He didn’t think he’d sleep at all again for the second night in a row, but he found himself falling into a restless, dreamless sleep regardless.

-

He looked up at the knock on his door, curled up in his beanbag with Megabot in his hands. He had been pulling it apart and putting it back together for the past hour now, the sameness of the action soothing his nerves. The memory of the incident in the bathroom was plaguing him, no matter how often he told himself it wasn’t real, no matter how many times he went back to check to see if the handprints were still there.

They never were.

“Hey sweetie,” Aunt Cass greeted, walking into his room with a plate in her hands. Dinner, from the smell of it. When had he last eaten? He couldn’t remember. Eating didn’t hold much interest anymore. “Café’s closed for the night. Beat poetry night did really well! I think you would have liked it,” she tells him as she sets the plate down on his desk, her back to him.

I wish you would have come down, he reads between her words. He sighs a little, opening his mouth to make up some sort of excuse—

She turned around to face him, smiling a little, and Tadashi stands behind her.

He felt his mouth go dry, and Tadashi merely grinned that grin and put his finger to his lips.

“ _Shh,_ ” his dead brother whispered, and he felt himself choke at the sound. Nodding, apparently satisfied that he wouldn’t make a noise, Tadashi kind of… jerked a little, an excited motion that looked like he didn’t quite know what excitement was anymore. His right arm, still hanging loose, swung a little at the motion. Keeping their eyes locked, Tadashi slowly reached a hand towards Aunt Cass.

He opened his mouth, to warn or scream he wasn’t sure, but Tadashi shot his arm forward before he could make a peep. He brushed his fingers along the bottom of their Aunt’s shirt.

“Maybe next week? Some of the regulars have been asking about you…” He couldn’t speak though, frozen to his spot.

Tadashi had touched her shirt and somehow lit it on fire.

“Hiro?” The smile slipped from her face, replaced by confused concern at the growing fear on his face. “Is everything okay?” she asked, as the flames traveled higher and higher up her body. He stayed still for a moment more, listening to Tadashi giggle behind his hand, before he flew up from his chair with a strangled cry. Near tackling her to the ground, trying to put out the flaming mess of her shirts, and he couldn’t hear her confused objections over his panicked breathing.

“Hey!” She finally caught hold of both his hands, forcing them still. “Hey, what’s going on with you?”

“Your shirt,” he babbled. “Your shirt, there were flames, it was on fire, are you okay oh please oh…” He stopped at the look on her face; confusion and worry, like he had finally lost his mind.

“Honey, no… I’m fine, my shirt’s fine, see?” He looked down at her shirt, perfectly intact. Not a scorch mark to be seen, no cloth eaten away. He blinked, shaking as he looked up at her.

“But… But it was, there was smoke…”

“ _Careful, Hi-ro,_ ” Tadashi warned with a mocking simper. “ _You’ll have to go away if you keep seeing things._ ”

“It’s okay, honey,” and she hugged him close to her for a minute, stroking his hair. “I’ll make you some hot tea, you’ll feel better with some sleep. It’ll get better.”

“ _It’s okay, little brother,_ ” Tadashi agreed. “ _You’ll always have me._ ”

-

“Hiro?”

The wood table was stained. Too many drinks spilled, cups with rings of water forming at the bottom. Too many food fights. He could see chips on the surface, where he and Tadashi had used to build whatever invention their hearts had been set on. Aunt Cass had always reprimanded them, _you’re going to break the table one day and I’m not going to be the one to buy a new one let me tell you that,_ but she’d never really made them stop.

“Hiro?”

He clinked his fork against his plate, eyes sluggishly moving towards the sound and away from the table. _Clink._ A small, bright sound. _Clink._ His plate had yet to be touched. _Clink._ He remembered breaking one of the plates in this set, a child’s tantrum that had sent him to bed with no dinner. _Clink._ He felt Mochi rub up against his legs and shot them up onto the chair, curling them under his body.

“Hiro!”

“Huh?” He blinked a few times, bringing his head up to face his Aunt. She was frowning, her lips pursed, forehead drawn with worry.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention. Are you okay?”

He blinked again, turning his face back down towards the table. He’d gone down to the kitchen to eat with her, the first time in weeks. The sad, defeated look on her face when she’d come up to his room to ask, like she already knew he’d deny, had twisted a shred of something in his chest. He hated that he had made her feel that way. He wished he could be better, but everything better about him was ashes and dust and he couldn’t be better, not anymore.

“I’m fine,” he said tonelessly. “I’m fine, I guess I’m just not hungry.”

And he was fine. He hadn’t seen that phantom of his brother again, not since that day in his bedroom, hallucinating a fire. Hadn’t had to see the charred body of his favourite person, grinning like he suddenly knew awful secrets.

He was fine except for the dreams.

Every night since he had heard Tadashi laugh after setting their aunt on fire, he’d been having dreams. He had a feeling it was the same dream every night, but he couldn’t remember exact details

[clink clink plink like blood bright sound like blood dripping from burnt fingertips dig into his chest _what do we have here_ as his brother eats his heart]

beyond the end of them. His brother, black and bloody, straddling his chest. Bloody from his wounds, bloody hands up to his elbows that Hiro somehow knew was his own. Fingers curled like claws, Tadashi straddled him in his dreams and laughed and whispered as he felt himself dying in his sleep.

“ _You could join me,_ ” Tadashi would tell him every night. “ _Everything gets better after you die._ ”

He thought he heard that rasping voice as well, in the hours he was awake. Mostly laughter from around the corners of walls. A few times he had heard his name, drawn out, not coming from any specific direction. Sometimes the wall above his bed would thump, like someone had slammed their fists into the drywall.

It couldn’t be real, he knew, but he wasn’t at his best and there was only so much he could take.

“Hiro… You know if anything’s wrong, you can tell me. You know that, right?”

She was thinking about how he had grabbed at her shirt, thinking it had been on fire. She was thinking about the panic and confusion he had felt seeing that it wasn’t. She must be wondering if his mind was cracking. He was wondering the same thing.

“I know, Aunt Cass. May I be excused?” Her shoulders slumped.

“Of course. Sleep well sweetie.” She smiled at him as he stood up from the table, and it only wobbled slightly at the edges, her eyes damp.

 _It must feel like she lost us both instead of just the one,_ Hiro thought, too tired to properly care anymore.

He didn’t remember trudging up the stairs, didn’t remember opening his door, didn’t remember anything up until he turned on the lights and saw the walls of his room. Streaks of black, like someone had mixed ashes with mud and watered it down until it was thin, covered his walls from floor to ceiling. The same words, written over and over again.

**HERE FOREVER I’M HERE FOREVER I’M HERE**

He closed the door without entering his room.

Not letting go of the doorknob, he slowly lowered himself into a crouch, head hanging low. He felt himself crying, his body shaking from trying to not make any noise, but he felt so detached from himself. He couldn’t care. He couldn’t keep caring. Not if this kept happening.

“Why is this happening?” he whispered.

Maybe it was punishment for letting his brother die. Maybe he really was being haunted, his brother’s spirit so angry with his failure, and this would go on for the rest of his life. Maybe he was just going crazy. The shining beacon of his life, his calm in the storm, his safe place to go, all gone, dust in the wind, and this is what was to happen to him.

Maybe this was just what he deserved.

He considered just sleeping outside his door for the night, before he thought of Aunt Cass and what she might think. He didn’t have the energy to deal with it. Sniffling a little, drying his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie, he slowly stood up and opened the door.

Of course his walls were clean and clear of writing.

Of course.

-

“Hey, Hiro!”

“Mmph,” he mumbled, burying his face in his pillow. He heard laughing from the other side of the room, clear and low.

“Hey knucklehead, sorry to wake you. Did you take my screwdriver again? I can’t find it.” Hiro groaned loudly, sitting himself up and throwing a glare at the partition separating his and Tadashi’s sides of the room. It was closed, but it looked like his brother had turned on the small lamp by his bed. He could see his shadow moving back and forth behind it.

“You woke me up for that?” he grumbled, still mostly asleep. He got off the bed and trudged towards his desk, grabbing the screwdriver off of it. He walked slowly towards his brother’s area, listening to the shuffling sounds of his brother.

“Serves you right for taking my stuff,” Tadashi replied smoothly, and it was a wonder that he had managed to get into the room and open and close the partition so late at night. It was loud when it opened, the clattering of it unavoidable, and Tadashi had to have opened it since he himself had closed it the day after—

He stopped just a step away from the paper partition, snapped fully awake by remembrance, and noticed his brother had stopped moving as well, standing in front of him on the other side. His shadow seemed to loom over him.

He had closed it himself the day after the first nightmare of his brother, he remembered, and swallowed thickly.

“What’s the matter Hiro?” his brother asked, still not moving from his spot. “Aren’t you going to give me the screwdriver?”

Tadashi sounded just like he did the day of his death, no dry rasp at all, and from what Hiro could see of the shadow he looked the same too. Nothing was sticking out or falling off that he could tell. His brother was even wearing his hat. He tried to tell himself that this was just another dream, but it felt too much like that day in the bathroom. It felt too clear and sharp at the edges to be a dream.

He had the sudden urge to call out for his aunt, just start screaming and bawling for her, have her come in and see this and make it go away, comfort him afterwards with soft words and maybe a hug. She hadn’t seen him last time though, hadn’t felt the flames eating up the fabric of her shirt. And what if she did see him this time? What if she did and Tadashi could really hurt her this time? He couldn’t let that happen, no matter how distant and lost he’d been lately he couldn’t let her get hurt like that.

“Hiro?”

Shaking, scared mute, Hiro slowly shook his head.

“Hiro, come on.”

Still shaking his head, he took a single step back.

Tadashi was suddenly _there_ , right in front of him, throwing his body into Hiro’s. They fell down, a tangle of limbs, Tadashi on top and grinning. He looked exactly as he had lately, after his death, still charred and crazed. Hiro let out a strangled cry, struggling to get free. He felt himself start crying.

“ _This is what you wanted,_ ” Tadashi told him, bringing his face closer

[smell the smell of cooked flesh everywhere surrounding godgod tadashi was dead he had died like this why was he why was]

and smiling so wide that Hiro could count all the teeth in his jaw if he wanted. “ _You wanted me to be with you, you wanted me to never leave._ ”

“I want you alive!” Hiro replied, wheezing through his tears and the heavy weight of his dead brother on top of him.

“ _I am alive,_ ” Tadashi whispered, and Hiro watched with growing horror as his brother slowly brought his hands to Hiro’s neck. “ _I’m alive to you, and this is what I am._ ” Hiro moaned low in his throat, starting to thrash his body, trying to escape.

“ _It could be different,_ ” Tadashi said, wrapping damaged fingers around Hiro’s neck and laughing when Hiro started crying harder at the feeling. “ _It could be better. We could be better and together forever, just like we promised. Just like I promised you, little brother._ ”

“Please,” Hiro whispered, wrapping his own hands around Tadashi’s wrists and tugging.

“ _You just have to join me,_ ” was the reply Hiro got, before Tadashi started choking him.

Time seemed to slow down, and what lasted maybe a minute felt like it passed in five instead. Hiro tried to pry his brother’s fingers away from his throat, scratching and pulling and twisting, but all Tadashi did was laugh and squeeze tighter.

“ _Join me or not, it doesn’t matter, baby brother,_ ” he heard Tadashi say as his vision went steadily black. “ _I’ll be with you forever._ ”

He opened his mouth to scream at the thought and promptly passed out.

-

He woke up on the floor in the morning, and Aunt Cass made no comment about Tadashi lounging on Hiro’s bed with a grin.

-

There was no reprieve anymore. Tadashi was everywhere Hiro went, and he wasn’t leaving anymore. He was there when he ate, when he went to the bathroom, when he couldn’t bring himself out of bed some days. The nights after he managed to get a little sleep, he awoke to Tadashi lying next to him in bed, grin frozen on his face.

He’d been heading towards the stairs one day, only wanting a glass of water. He’d been tired and jumpy, having only slept for a few hours in two days, scared to try for anymore. Scared of what Tadashi may end up doing while he was asleep. At the head of the stairs, he suddenly felt a hand clasp his shoulder.

“ _Boo,_ ” Tadashi whispered in his ear. Hiro choked on a shriek and thrashed to get away. He thought he’d have to fight for it, but Tadashi let go immediately, to his surprise.

He wasn’t as surprised when he discovered that the force of his struggling had set him off balance, though, and he tumbled painfully down the stairs.

“Hiro? What was that sound?” He opened his eyes and saw his aunt come from around the corner, curiosity morphing to alarm quickly on her face at seeing her nephew laying at the bottom of the stairs. “Hiro! Did you fall, are you okay?” She rushed to him, her hands fluttering indecisively over his body, unsure where to check for hurts first.

“I’m fine!” he snapped, feeling his eyes well up with tears. He hurt everywhere, his arms and ribs and head and legs

[his heart his mind his body his everything everything his soul was in pieces and it was all all all his all his fault]

all throbbing from his fall. Nothing felt broken, but he could hear Tadashi come down the stairs, letting out a high pitched titter. Everything hurt, and he was tired, and he felt inexplicably angry with his aunt for not being able to see what he could see. If she could see Tadashi, maybe she would stop asking him if he was okay. Why did she get to be spared this guilt and horror?

“ _Awhh Hiro, don’t be mean to Aunt Cass,_ ” Tadashi reprimanded, mocking as he usually was these days. “ _This isn’t her fault, after all._ ”

Right. Because it was still his fault, wasn’t it? This wouldn’t be happening if he hadn’t let go of Tadashi that day, if he hadn’t let his brother die. He wouldn’t have wished for his brother back, and he wouldn’t have gotten himself into this mess. He wouldn’t have to look at the ghost, the horror, of his guilt and shame and regret. He wouldn’t have to listen to it laugh as it recounted stories from their childhood at night, turning them macabre and awful.

He should have saved Tadashi.

He should have died with Tadashi.

“I’m fine,” he repeated, softer. He felt defeated. He felt tired. He just wanted this to stop. “I just tripped, I’m okay.”

“Are you sure, sweetie?” Cass asked, brushing his hair away from his face. He ducked his head away from her fingers.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he said, and only half wished his aunt could see it for the lie it was.

Another day he tried to hide from Tadashi under his bed. He’d been trying to ignore him for most of the day, keeping his eyes trained on his lap. Trying to filter out whatever Tadashi happened to be talking about

[talking about the fire it burned little brother he said it burned and burned and i screamed i screamed for you he said let me tell you how i died he laughed and laughed]

at the time. The silence hit hard when Tadashi stopped talking, but he basked in it regardless. It was the first silent moment he’d had in hours.

He’d expected the silence to be broken with words, but instead he heard a thick, wet sound coming from the desk where Tadashi was.

He shouldn’t, he knew he shouldn’t look, but he found himself looking up towards Tadashi anyways. What he saw horrified him.

Tadashi had dug the fingers of his left hand into the meat of his right shoulder, where it was still split open and festering. He was twisting his fingers around, trying to get a good grip it looked like, which was what was making that wet sound Hiro had heard. The more he dug, the more bone Hiro could see; it was startling how white the bone was against the damaged flesh and muscle tissue.

Tadashi kept his eyes locked with Hiro’s, the milky pale, blind right one and the dry, red left one.

He kept their eyes locked as he began to tug the meat of his arm away from the bone.

Which is how Hiro found himself under his bed. It was the first place he could think of, the quickest escape from what he was seeing. He could feel himself sobbing out breaths, but he couldn’t hear anything beyond the wet tearing sounds he could still hear. He was dimly aware that he was crying

[crying again still crying crying since big brother had died and haunted him stop crying so tired of stop it stop it stop please stop big brother please]

and buried his face in his arms, letting his body shake with it. No point in fighting it anymore.

He stayed like that for long minutes, venting his pent up frustration through tears he couldn’t stop. He didn’t know how to make it stop, how to make anything stop. He was as helpless as he’d ever been, and he had no one he could turn to. Obviously no one else could see what he was seeing, and no one would believe him. They’d tell him that it was just his grief playing with his mind. Even if that was what it was, did it matter? It didn’t stop this from happening.

When he finally cried himself out, it took him a moment to realize he couldn’t hear the sounds of Tadashi tearing away his flesh anymore. He couldn’t hear anything, actually. Sniffling a little, hesitant, he brought his face out of his arms.

He looked straight into Tadashi’s face, lying next to him under the bed.

“ _Oh Hiro,_ ” Tadashi cooed, scooching closer in the confined space. “ _This is where we first met! How sweet._ ”

Trying to scream through his dry throat, Hiro started to wiggle his way out from under the bed. He was stopped when Tadashi shot out his arm

[his right arm oh god oh god there were chunks of flesh missing why is his blood why is it red so red bright bright red]

and gripped Hiro’s hair tightly.

“ _Stop running from me, little brother. Stay with me forever._ ”

Shaking his head violently, he somehow managed to get out of the grip, rocketing himself out from under the bed in a matter of seconds. He crawled his way to the door, stumbling his way to his feet. Gripping the doorknob, he had another moment of ‘shouldn’t-do-this’ but again, he couldn’t help it. He threw a quick glance behind him.

Tadashi had pulled himself halfway out from under the bed, and in the better lighting Hiro could see the absolute mess he had made of his shoulder, could see the blood that stained his hand. Tadashi raised his bloody hand and beckoned Hiro closer.

“ _You can join me, little brother. It’ll be better if you do._ ”

He left his room as quickly as he could and spent the next few hours in the bathroom, alternating between crying and shaking silently.

-

A week before school was supposed to start, Tadashi’s friends came to visit him.

He was lying face down on his bed, face buried in his pillow, idly tuning out Tadashi’s laughter as he set Hiro’s various possessions on fire and let them burn. Every time the fires burned out, all that was left was ash until Hiro blinked, and the object in question was back, good as new. He stopped watching an hour ago.

He felt the bed dip beside him and shot halfway up, turning to move away from Tadashi

[what if he touched him what if he set him on fire what if he actually burned he would deserve it die like his brother did justice justice god how sweet]

but instead of his dead brother, it was Honey Lemon sitting close to him, looking worried.

Shaking a little, blinking slowly, he looked past her and saw Gogo, Wasabi and Fred, all also looking at him with worry. He took a deep breath and laid back down, trying to stop his fingers from quivering. His nerves were shot to hell lately. He wasn’t sure his heart could keep taking this.

“Hello Hiro,” Honey said softly, touching his hip. He hummed a little, looking at them blankly. “We wanted to see how you were doing. We haven’t heard from you since…”

 _Since the funeral,_ Hiro finished for her silently, but said nothing.

“Yeah, Ms. H says it’s been hard,” Fred said, unable to speak softly it seemed. “But we wanted to see for ourselves, you know?” Hiro didn’t reply.

“We were wondering if you’d registered for classes yet,” Wasabi said, his voice low and soothing.

“They start next week,” Gogo informed him, but Hiro knew that already. Aunt Cass had been telling him that for a few days now, trying to be subtle in her own way.

“I haven’t,” he said tonelessly. He thought that maybe they expected more from him, but he offered nothing. He could see Tadashi from the corner of his eye, slowly prowling closer to the group, ever present grin stretching his face wide. He closed his eyes.

“Well, it isn’t too late to register!” Honey told him, and he could see her hopeful smile in his mind. He appreciated her effort to sound so cheerful. “We can do it with you, it’ll be great. It’s a beautiful day out, we can walk there, and we’ll be with you the whole way.”

“ _Yeah Hiro!_ ” Tadashi exclaimed. “ _Let’s go out! I love feeling the heat on my skin._ ” He shuddered a little at those words.

“Thank you,” he said, trying to sound sincere. “I don’t, I mean… I don’t feel well today. Maybe another day.”

“What’s wrong?” Gogo asked. “Do you need Baymax?”

“No,” Hiro said quickly. He didn’t want to hear what Baymax could possibly have to say about his condition. “It’s just, I’m just tired today. Not a lot of sleep last night…”

It wasn’t a lie. Every time he had found himself starting to doze off, Tadashi had grabbed a part of his body and started to pull him off the bed. It was hard to sleep through something like that.

“Well, we can just stay here in your room,” Fred suggested. “Put some movies on the computer and hang out. That’d be fun too.” Hiro opened his eyes and looked at the group, looked at their hopeful eyes and smiles. They were really worried about him, he realized.

For the first time since the funeral, confronted with these people he had come to care about months before, he seriously considered letting someone else in. Letting them try to comfort him. Maybe it was what he needed. It could be nice, watching a movie or two with these people. Having interaction with anyone that wasn’t the dead hallucination or ghost of his brother, torturing and mocking him from afar.

Tadashi flung an arm around Fred’s shoulders, looking at Hiro like this was the most fun he’d had in a while.

“ _Don’t you want to share me Hiro?_ ”

Just like that, his budding hope and fantasies of friends were dashed. They couldn’t help him with this. How could they? This was his fault, he couldn’t put this on them. What could they say to make any of this better?

No, this was exactly what he deserved and he knew it.

“Thank you, but I think I just want to sleep.” He tried to ignore the disappointment on all their faces.

“Okay,” Honey Lemon said softly, leaning forward and running her fingers through his hair briefly. “We’ll let you sleep. Message us sometime, please? When you feel better.”

“Okay,” he said, not sure if he meant it or not.

“ _Oh Hiro,_ ” Tadashi said, watching Hiro watch the group leave his room. “ _I didn’t know you wanted to be alone with me so badly._ ”

Hiro closed his eyes again and tried to will himself to sleep.

-

Days passed, turning into weeks, turning into over a month, and Hiro didn’t register for classes. He ignored the messages on the computer from the group. He barely spoke to his aunt when he saw her. He didn’t make eye contact with anyone. He tried to ignore Tadashi but _couldn’t._

He stopped leaving his room altogether. He stopped leaving his bed for the most part.

It didn’t seem to matter anymore.

-

Hiro opened his eyes and saw his room bathed in a warm light. The blinds on his window were open, and he could see the sun setting just outside. He breathed in deeply, feeling all his muscles loosen, his mind pleasantly blank. He slowly uncurled himself, stretching his whole body, tips of his fingers to his toes.

He hadn’t felt this relaxed and at peace in months, which is how he knew he was dreaming.

The bed dipped to one side, and Hiro tensed and turned over facing Tadashi—

Facing a perfect, whole Tadashi. His breath caught in his throat. Tadashi’s skin was free of any burns, wounds, scars, even blemishes. He wasn’t wearing his hat, his hair mussed by his fingers. He was still wearing the clothes he had died in, but they weren’t destroyed. Hiro was struck with the memory of Tadashi smiling at him on the bridge after his presentation, looking proud and happy. He looked just like that now, maybe a little sad around the edges. He smiled, close-lipped, and touched Hiro’s face.

“Little brother,” he said softly, and Hiro found himself crying once again.

“Is it really you?” he asked, scared to hear no, but desperate to hear him say yes as well.

“It’s always been me,” Tadashi answered. Hiro shook a little at that answer, a flare of fright igniting in him. It went away when Tadashi laid down on the bed next to him, putting their faces level. “It hasn’t been easy, I know.”

They stayed like that for a while. The light never changed in the room, a perpetual sunset outside, but Hiro didn’t mind. The sun made the room warmer than it would have been, and it was nice just like this. He watched Tadashi breathe, took in all the things that he had missed in the few months that he had been dead. Took in the perfection that was his brother, now that he was as he was before he died rather than after. Tadashi watched him back, never losing that small smile.

“Why can’t it be like this?” Hiro asked quietly. He dreaded waking up, having to go back to the life he had been living. Dreaded having to face his brother again, mangled and ruined and crazy. He wasn’t sure how he would handle it, not after this.

“Do you want it to be like this?” Tadashi asked seriously, his smile fading. Hiro nodded.

“I wish you hadn’t died. I always want to be with you, just like this. You’re my brother and I miss you,” he said plainly, not wanting to hide anything. Not feeling like he could anymore. Tadashi nodded.

“I miss you too, so much.” Tadashi paused after he said this, before smiling brightly. “It can be like this, though. Always. We can always be together, Hiro. You just have to find me.”

Hiro felt his lower lip tremble, but he said nothing and cuddled close to his brother.

He wanted late nights with his brother, watching dumb sci-fi movies and laughing. He wanted to argue with him again, about anything and everything under the sun. He wanted to be able to joke around with him, rough house and play and invent things again.

He wanted to stay in this bed and feel his brother breathe against him for the rest of his life.

“You’re going to wake up soon,” Tadashi mumbled. Hiro felt a shock of panic go through him.

“Will you be there?” he asked, almost begged. “Not him, but you?”

“No,” was all Tadashi said. Hiro started to cry again, almost surprised by the suddenness of the tears.

“I can’t keep seeing him,” he whispered, like it was a dirty secret. Maybe it was; it may have been a nightmare, but it was still his brother. He felt Tadashi take a deep breath.

“It’s okay, Hiro. If you want to see me again,” and here he pulled away from Hiro, smiling fondly down at him. “If you want to see me again, little brother, you know where to find me.”

He closed his eyes and nodded.

-

He opened his eyes to his pitch black room, and hearing the shuffling, scratching sounds underneath his bed

[like the first night that night that awful dream not mochi not this time not ever]

he smiled for the first time in months.

-

**Boy Genius Takes His Life**

By: William Hall

Hiro Hamada, aged fourteen, seemed to have his life in order. He graduated high school at thirteen, and had recently been accepted into SFIT for this fall semester. With a genius IQ and many different inventions already to his name, it seemed like he would go far in life.

However, tragedy struck when, during the night, he climbed to the roof of The Lucky Cat Café, where he lived with his Aunt, and jumped to his death.

His suicide seems to be linked with the death of his older brother, Tadashi Hamada, who died earlier this year. When asked, his aunt revealed that he hadn’t been the same since that day. She mentioned that he was closed off and depressed, not sleeping or eating, and had hallucinated a fire at least once. It’s believed that the stress and grief over losing his brother was too much for the young boy, leading him to take his own life.

Tadashi Hamada died earlier this year in the SFIT fire, which also took the life of Robert Callaghan, a noted professor at the school. The fire is still in question and believed to be started under suspicious circumstances, but there are no leads…

**Author's Note:**

> I have a Tumblr [here](http://www.glitterpukesoul.tumblr.com) if you feel inclined to come yell at me over writing this. I also post some fandom stuff there


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